Page 74 of All The Ways to Miss You

“Is that what that smell is?” I peer toward my room.

“Nah, I shut your bedroom door. That smell is you.” She sniffs the air. “I’d guess a mixture of beer, urine, and dumpster sludge.”

I glance down at myself. I have no shirt, and there’s a large black Sharpie drawing on my chest. I tilt my head, trying to make sense of what it says. “What the⁠—”

She approaches and stands over me, laughing with a hand covering her mouth. “But I guess you’re not the player I thought you were.”

Needing to know what it says, I roll out of bed and stumble toward her bathroom. Standing in front of her mirror, I ignore the fact I’m half-dressed and zero in on what’s been drawn in bold black capital letters across my bare chest.

“Holy shit.” I reach for the nearest towel to cover myself.

“Too late,” she says from the bedroom. “I know your secret now, virgin.”

Who the fuck did this? Steph would never. Did I do this to myself?

Then it dawns on me. I don’t care, or I only care because Cait saw, but she wouldn’t know if it’s true or not. Instead of playing into the gag, I do the opposite of what she might expect. I drop the towel, letting it fall to the tile floor, and head for her shower. I lean in to turn on the faucet. Hot water shoots from the showerhead and steams up the room.

“What the hell are you doing?” Cait calls.

“Don’t come in.”

“It’s my bathroom.” She appears at the door. She halts in mid-step as I’m dropping trou, giving her the full sun and moon. It’s pretty spectacular and huge, if I do say so myself, but her eyes widen and her face blushes red hot within a split second. The color extends to her ears, turning them a glowing shade of hot pink.

When she yelps and retreats with her hands covering her eyes, I laugh.

“I warned you.”

thirty-three

“Are you studying on a Saturday night again?” I slide an arm into my leather jacket, preparing to leave. It’s the sixth Saturday night in a row Cait’s been at the dining room table with her laptop and schoolbooks.

“Are you going out again? You can’t give me a hard time if you’re doing the same thing every week too,” she snaps.

And this is how it’s been since she’s moved in, a back-and-forth game of challenging each other. I’ll admit I’ve enjoyed it, but I hoped I’d win her over at least a little by this point.

It’s time to change that.

When I don’t answer, Cait returns her focus to her laptop. I was supposed to meet Steph tonight for our weekly blow-off-steam session on Division Street. Not because I want to but because she’s blackmailing me. She’s threatened to tell Cait I’ve been lusting over her for months. With any other girl, this might be a good thing, but I’m unsure how this news would sit with Cait. My worst fear is she’ll move out, and I don’t want that.

I pull out my cell to text Steph.

Evan

You’re on your own tonight.

Steph responds, and she isn’t happy. Instead of engaging in a texting war, I turn off my phone and slip it into my pocket. When I remove my jacket and scarf and hang them back in the closet, Cait peers at me with suspicion. I set my book bag on the table and remove my laptop and schoolwork before settling in a chair across from her.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Same thing as you.” I organize my space.

“Uh, no.” She drops her pen on the table.

“But isn’t this what you were challenging me to do? What you do?” I open my laptop and hit the power button. It pings to life, and a small Apple icon appears on the screen.

“Th-that’s not it at all,” she stutters, seemingly at a loss for words. Then she belts out, “You started it.”

“I started it?” I laugh.